


Sparring with the Commander

by QueenoftheProcrastination



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Play Fighting, Shameless Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 11:10:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3975874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenoftheProcrastination/pseuds/QueenoftheProcrastination
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Commander Cullen gives Lady Trevelyan a private sparring lesson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sparring with the Commander

**Author's Note:**

> Have some smut just because! Partially inspired by that ASoIaF line where Jaime Lannister says he never felt alive save when he was either fucking or fighting (I’m paraphrasing here).

There were many things on Thedas that were good and beautiful in the Maker’s sight, and Elena Trevelyan was willing to bet that Commander Cullen exercising shirtless in the training yard was one of them. She watched the fluid swing of his arm, his sword moving as an extension of his body, while he pressed his advantage towards the unfortunate recruit who faced him. His muscles, built up from years of warfare, rippled under his skin. Sweat dripped down his back and clung to his hair, just enough to give him a flushed,  _just been fucked_  look. Every so often a grunt escaped his lips, and the sound carried straight through her. Maker she loved watching him fight—his usual careful control, so dutifully cultivated to give the air of authority and command, fell away, unleashing something primal, instinctive,  _animalistic_. Elena was willing to bet all the gold in Skyhold that Cullen fucked the same way he fought.

And by Andraste did she ever want to find out for herself.

The crowd cheered as the Commander knocked his opponent into the dust, the tip of his practice sword pressed into the other man’s throat.

“I yield!”

Elena clapped, basking in his victory with everyone else. If she was perhaps breathing just a little too hard, or her cheeks a tad too flushed, hopefully no one noticed. She could feel dampness pooling in her smallclothes; there was something enticingly masculine about watching a man practice at killing. Just when she was about to turn away—hurry back to her quarters and relieve the aching that came with watching him, Cullen flicked his gaze towards her. Warm amber eyes locked on her as his chest heaved from exhaustion from the fight. She felt the air whistle out of her lungs; the way he was looking at her,  _Maker_ , it make her weak. She took a deep breath.

Elena stepped forward, relishing the drag of her thighs against each other with each step as the crowd parted for her. “It’s all very well and good to beat up on your recruits, Commander, but how about a real challenge?”

He grinned, his eyes traveling over her slight frame that was so much smaller than his, weighing her words against what he saw before him.

“I’d be happy to knock you into the dust, Inquisitor.”

“We’ll see about that,” she replied, a smirk on her face as she entered the practice ring. Unsheathing her daggers, she twirled them on her fingers before slinking into a fighting stance. “Would you like me to wait for you to catch your breath?”

Cullen rolled his shoulders, his muscles flexing impressively, and readied his sword and shield. “That won’t be necessary, my lady. I’m always ready for you.”

_Well fuck me,_  Elena thought, the timbre of his voice rolling over her like velvet, setting her nerves alight.

They had flirted before, exchanged heated looks across the war table, small touches in passing, but this was something entirely different. Perhaps it was the adrenaline of the fight, or the anticipation of coming together in the training ring, but the air around them was charged. Everything about him screamed sex and dominance, and she wanted all of it.

They circled each other for a moment, sizing their opponent up. Cullen watched her closely, his golden gaze predatory as he took in every quiver and twitch of her body. Elena was equally attentive, eyes raking over the raised scars of his chest and shoulders, a visual testimony to his prowess, watching and waiting for telltale signs that he was about to pounce. When she saw his eyes slip down the collar of her shirt to the pale swell of her breasts, she struck. She launched herself at him, a flurry of blades and limbs whirling through the air. Cutting quickly at his exposed side, she retreated just as he raised his sword in parry.

“Tut, tut, Commander. Wandering eyes will cost you on the battlefield,” she teased.

Cullen simply smiled and readjusted his grip on the hilt of his sword. Before she had a chance to plan her next attack, he struck. The long blade swung out, arching towards her neck. Elena dodged, leaping and rolling to the side. She righted herself just in time to raise her daggers to block his next swing. Steel clashed together, sending sparks flying through the air. He had stepped close to her, close enough that she could see his heart beating in his chest, and feel the heat of his body against her skin. With a smile and a wink, she pushed hard enough to rock him back, and attacked again.

They continued their dance, fighting for dominance, retreating then advancing, each step countered by the other. Elena couldn’t deny the flush to her cheeks, nor the aching burn deep between her thighs weren’t completely from exhilaration of the fight. Whenever they approached each other, bodies wound taut, quivering from exertion, the deep masculine scent of him enveloped her. And each time he retreated she wanted more.

Elena spun around his side, slipping away from a powerful shield bash and hooked her dagger just below his throat. Cullen stilled as he felt the cool steel and the press of her small body against his back.

“Yield, Commander?” She whispered in his ear, her voice breathy.

“No.”

Before she could track what happened, Cullen had spun them, knocking her into the dirt and landing on top of her. She gasped as the hard, solid weight of him settled between her legs, and something even harder ground into her aching heat, sending a jolt of pleasure rippling her and making her body clench in release. Her dagger flew out of her hand, and he held a small dirk to her throat. She was breathing just as hard as he was, her chest heaving as he loomed over her. Time seemed to freeze as they stared at each other. His cheeks were flushed, and a few errant curls hung over his forehead as he regarded her, trying to decide, perhaps, if he’d really felt what he thought he’d felt. Taking a gambled that their fight had left him just as wanting as it had her, Elena flexed her thighs, not enough that any of their onlooker would notice, but enough for him to  _feel_. His cock throbbed against her in response.

As if coming to his senses, Cullen eased up off of her. She wasn’t sure if the rolling his hips against her aching sex just enough to leave her wanting more was on purpose, but she definitely had to bit her lip to stifle a moan. Throwing the dirk to the side, he offered her his hand. As he helped her up, the crowd cheered.

“Good match, Inquisitor,” he said, his voice husky, his fingers lingering against hers.

Elena grinned, the tone of his voice sending more flutters of excitement through her.

“Yes. You’ll have to teach me that last move, Commander. It took me completely off guard,” she purred, still high on the afterglow of his body pressed against hers. “I can’t let just any man on top of me like that.”

“I could show you now, if you like,” there was that cocky grin again as his eyes lingered across her form; there was no doubt what he was suggesting.

She swallowed hard as the full weight of his words crashed into her. Could he really want her? Elena glanced down, eyeing the very prominent bulge pressing against his trousers.  _Well, I guess I have my answer_.

“I believe your office is vacant.”

She dared to glance up at him, anticipation coiling hot in her stomach at the look he was giving her, at the way his teeth scrapped over his bottom lip, considering her words. Finally, he nodded, and she followed him silently across the battlements, the crowd of people watching them completely forgotten. Her heart pounded harder with each step they took. He motioned her through the door, his fingers trailing over the small of her back as she walked past him.

The office was familiar—she’d spend hours in here, going over plans with him, tracking Samson, checking to make sure he had eaten and slept recently. The door clicked shut behind her, and she turned, a flirty remark on the tip of her tongue. But before she could deliver it, his hands and lips were on her, pulling her close and kissing her with enough force to make her head spin. One big hand gripped her waist while the other tangled in her hair, her body curving up and against his. His lips were firm, demanding, as he swiped his tongue over her bottom lip, pressing for entry. She parted under him, and his tongue began exploring the warm velvet of her mouth. Elena moaned, her fingers scrambling for purchase against his chest. She rolled her hips into the hard muscle of his thigh, sending another flood of pleasure swelling through her body.

Elena had been kissed before, but never quite like this.

And just as suddenly as the kiss had started, it was over. Cullen walked past her, a swagger in his step as he motioned her up the ladder.

“I imagine you’ll want something softer to land on than the flagstone while I demonstrate that move,” he said with a smirk.

Grinning, Elena sashayed past him, her hips swaying as she climbed up to his bedroom. As she waited for him to follower her, she pulled her tunic over head and tossed it to the side. It was only fair, after all, since he was currently without a shirt. He crested the ladder, eyes widening at her topless state.

“So,” she began, “I believe it started with me like this.”

Carefully, she maneuvered them so that she was pressed against his back once more, her arm slung across his board shoulders as they stood next to the bed. The warmth of his skin against her chest, sinking in through the fabric of her breastband, was enough to make her shudder.

“Right,” Cullen cleared his throat, “it’s quite easy to block, as long as you know what to look for. Ready?”

She nodded, “give me your best.”

Without replying, he hooked his arm behind him, wrapping it securely around her waist, his fingers gripping her hip. With a fierce tug, he spun her around as he sat down. Elena tightened her grip on his shoulder, stopping him from flinging her clear across the bed. She landed in his lap.

“Like that?” she asked, breathless.

Cullen nodded, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. She watched it, mesmerized by his lips; the memory of them kissing her just moments ago still fresh enough that her own lips were still tingled.

“Yes, although now you’re vulnerable to a frontal attack,” he murmured.

Cullen leaned forward, almost hesitantly, and nuzzled her neck, teeth nipping at her sensitive skin followed by the gentle press of his tongue to sooth his bites. He became bolder as she leaned into him, a soft moan escaping her lips at the feeling of his stubble scraping over her delicate skin.

“I could always distract you,” she countered, shifting so that she straddled him, her breasts enticingly close to his face. “It worked earlier.”

Cullen chuckled, fingers dancing up her torso to run along the top of her breast band. “You noticed that, I take it?”

He tugged harder and the fabric fluttered to the ground. Elena gasped as her already aching nipples pressed against his chest, the light dusting of hair along his body creating a sweet friction. Cullen cupped one of her breasts in his palm, and rolled her sensitive pink bud between his finger and thumb.

“You’re very distracting,” he whispered. “You know that?”

She rolled her hips against his, relishing the moan that tore through his throat. “Oh? Am I?”

“Yes,” he growled, suddenly pulling them down so that they lay across his bed, her on her back, legs still locked around him. “ _Very. Distracting_.”

He rolled his hips into her with each word, causing another flutter of pleasure to course though her. His cock was hard as steel beneath his trousers, and she ached to feel it pressed against her sex, with nothing between them. Elena gasped at his boldness, and raked her fingers down his back.  

“I must not be a very good student; you’ve trapped me once again,” she purred, writhing beneath him in a mock attempt at escape.

“Perhaps I should give you a chance to get away,” he murmured, easing up off of her just enough that she could roll onto her stomach and wiggle her hips at him.

“Do you know what I thought while I was watching you fight?” she panted, rising up on her knees and pressing her arse into his groin. “I thought, I bet Cullen fucks the same way he fights.”

From behind her, Cullen groaned and gripped her hips, pulling her flush against his throbbing cock.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Elena?”

She rubbed against him, the feeling of his thick length slotted between her legs sent ripples of pleasure through her already over sensitive body.

“The way you fight, Maker, Cullen. It’s obscene. All that careful control just _shatters_. I bet you’re like that when you fuck, I mean, really  _fuck_. Hard and primal,” she rocked against him with her words.

She felt his hands tugging at her trousers, unlacing them and ripping them down her legs. She moaned as the cool air hit her wet, suddenly exposed lips. Another moan tore through her as his lips brushed over her shoulder and along her spine, down, down, down, so that he could pull her trousers off completely. A moment later, his fingers pressed into her and she  _clenched_ ; there was no ceremony, just a sudden intrusion,  _filling_  her, pumping in and out in a fast, hard rhythm.

“I said, do you want me to fuck you?” he all but growled into her skin.

“ _Yes_.” It was a sob, a cry; she was begging him, on her hands and knees.

Yes, she wanted this, had wanted this, since she first laid eyes on him, fighting his way through an army of demons amidst the rubble of the Temple.

His fingers left her and she heard the soft, wet sounds of Cullen stroking himself, making his cock ready to enter her with her own slickness. Before she could protest at the sudden emptiness his absent fingers left in her, she felt his member press against her entrance. He pushed in, just enough that the crown of his cock pulsed inside of her. Before she could rock back and sheath him completely, he pulled out and slowly pressed his crown back in.

“Cullen,” she whined, hands fisting in the sheets beneath her.

He rubbed her back soothingly with one large hand. “Hush, sweetheart, patience.”

He continued his slow, torturous  _almost fucking_. Pressing just the first inch of his cock in and then pulling out. Each time hitting a sweet, hot spot inside of her. It wasn’t long before she was moaning his name, begging him for more.

“Cullen,” she gasped, reaching behind her grabbing the fabric that still pooled around his thighs. “I swear to the Maker, if you don’t fuck me right now—”

Her threat was cut short as he sheathed himself inside of her to the hilt in one swift movement. Elena gripped the footboard of his bed as the force of his thrust rocked her forward. A wanton moan tore through her lips as her tight heat stretched around his impossibly thick cock, a searing, painful pleasure twisting up through her body. He curled over her, his forehead pressed to her shoulder as he gasped for air, trying desperately to not to spill himself in the tight wet heat that enveloped him.

“Fuck,” the word fell from his lips against her skin; he rarely used profanity and just hearing the obscenity from him make her quiver.

Cullen took a deep breath and gripped the footboard with one hand, his fingers lacing with her own, and his thumb brushing across the back of her palm. She felt him shift, sitting up, pressing deeper into her as his other hand gripped her waist, anchoring them together.

He pulled out, his cock dragging through her cunt with a delicious burn. With a snap of his hips, he entered her again; Elena used the footboard for momentum as she rocked back against him, meeting his thrust. The feeling of Cullen inside of her was incredible,  _indescribable_. She felt full and deep and aching all at once. Each roll of his hips sent shock waves of pleasure spiraling through her body. He set a fast, hard pace, and soon the sound of their bodies joining together accompanied their frenzied moans and the creaking of his bed.

Elena could feel a hot, white fire building deep in her belly, each stroke of his cock stoking it higher. His lips were everywhere, kissing and biting across her shoulders and neck, sometimes feather light, sometimes bruising. She was so close.

“So, close–I’m so—” she moaned as the first flutters began.

Cullen grunted, the hand at her waist circling around to press where their bodies were joined. His fingers found the sensitive bundle of nerves, nestled right above where his cock split her sex. He rubbed firm, fast strokes that matched the furious pace of his hips.

“Come for me, Elena,” he ordered, nipping at her ear and tugging it into his mouth.

Her entire body was humming with pleasure, tingling and crackling, ready to ignite. The matching rhythm of his fingers and hips was too much. He slammed into her and she let go, her body clenching around his cock, pulling him in deep, so tight around him he could barely move. She was screaming, hard and high and long. His name tumbled past her lips and again and again peppered with expletives obscene enough to make a sailor blush.

“Fuck, yes, Cullen, yes. Don’t stop!” She cried as her limbs gave out.

She would have collapsed, save for his arm around her waist, pinning her to his chest. Cullen reared back on his haunches, pulling her up along with him so that she was balanced on his thighs. One arm stayed secure at her hips, the other snaked up, his hand spanning across her neck, strong fingers tilting her chin up.

“Let me kiss you while I spill inside of you,” he panted before crashing his lips down upon hers.

She buried her fingers in his hair, digits tugging at his curls, while her other hand cover his at her waist. Their tongues pressed together, lips parting,  _sucking_. His hips stuttered and his thrusts becoming more and more erratic. Cullen groaned, throwing his head back, his breath harsh and ragged as she felt the warm rush of his release deep inside of her.

Bodies shaking and breath uneven, they fell to the mattress in a tangle of limbs. Gently he pulled her close, her back flush to his chest. Lacing her fingers with his, she settled into his embrace, relishing the soft flutter of his lips brushing across her shoulder.

“Well,” he began, his voice still husky. “You’re quite good at distracting your opponent, but I can’t imagine your technique is going to be practical on the battlefield.”

Elena laughed and brought his hand to lips, brushing a kiss across his knuckles. “Probably not, but you’re such a lovely sparring partner, I can’t help myself.”

He chuckled, “is that what that was, sparring?”

“Mmhhmm,” she agreed, the sleep warmth of their entwined bodies surrounding her and making her eyelids heavy.

“Well then, as your military advisor I must insist you continue our lessons as often as possible,” his voice was low, husky, perhaps even a little vulnerable.

Elena turned over in his arms, nuzzling into his neck. “As long as you promise not to go easy on me.”

Cullen ran his fingers through her hair, smooth a few errant locks away from her face.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured, tilting her chin up for a sweet, lingering kiss.


End file.
